It no longer matters what your economic views are, whether you have (justified) left-wing concerns about monetarist policies being written into the EU, whether you worry about the purported undemocratic nature of the institution (whilst living in a country with a wholly unelected upper house and a head of state who got her job by virtue of who her daddy was), whether you worry about sovereignty (which lies entirely in the hands of multi-national corporations, bankers, and a few super-rich individuals anyway), or anything else.

The last two weeks have seen the most toxic, vile incitement to racism, xenophobia, and islamophobia it has ever been my misfortune to witness in this country. No other real arguments for Brexit have been put forward, and one cannot claim that it is just the unofficial campaign headed up by Nigel Farage: Boris Johnson and Michael Gove have equally engaged in demonization and racism. What else could be read from their scaremongering about an apparent imminent accession to the EU of Turkey, epitomized in their challenge to Cameron to guarantee to veto Turkish membership of the EU. What is this other than an indication that Turks will never be fit to be considered “one of us”? This is deliberate playing to the lowest common denominator, the basest of prejudices, and the worst of human nature; in Johnson’s case it is also stunningly hypocritical.

Everyone knows—surely—that Johnson’s volte face from being a pro-Europe, pro-Turkey expansionist to a nudge-nudge-wink-winking dog-whistle xenophobe is solely motivated by his personal ambition. That he is willing to shove his dick in the cesspit of racist sentiment to get there far outstrips his soon-to-be-predecessor’s favoured location for that organ. Could you really vote for that? Whatever reasons you have for doubting the EU, are you going to empower a man whose personal desire to run the country is so great that he cares not if the very country he ends up running be a bankrupt viper’s nest of racists and xenophobes?

Nigel goes the Full Smethwick

Or would you rather vote for Nigel Farage, who has no illusions of running the country, and therefore is free to go Full Smethwick?

Racism and xenophobia are not the exclusive preserve of the Out campaign in our politics, this is true. David Cameron, though now bemoaning the stoking of intolerance by the Brexit camp, was more than happy to endorse Zac Goldsmith’s explicitly racist campaign for London Mayor, and indeed played his own part—under parliamentary privilege—in that vicious affair.

A vote for In will not purge this country of the racial politics in which it is festering.

But, without a shadow of a doubt, a vote for Out will endorse it. Whatever discussions we could have had about Europe and the UK’s role within it have been hijacked by a naked racist and a utterly self-interested opportunist monomaniac.

A win for Out will be, first and foremost, a win for racism and xenophobia. If you are in any way a decent member of society then—whatever justified concerns you may or may not have about the EU—this time you must vote, and you must vote In.

Do you remember George Speight? In 2000 he usurped Fijian democracy, nominally standing for indigenous rights, but by a strange coincidence he was also an undischarged bankrupt about to face court proceedings.

Or how about Pervez Musharraf? In 1999 he usurped Pakistani democracy, purportedly fighting corruption, but he had also just overseen the disastrous Kargil operation and was facing calls to be court-martialled.

Hell, do you remember Gaius Julius Caesar, who usurped Roman democracy supposedly to restore order to the empire, but who was about to lose his consular immunity and face repeated Senatorial prosecutions for exceeding and ignoring their military instructions?

And now? Now a man facing charges of taking bribes worth $40 million, pillaging of state assets, and money laundering is firmly on his way to removing a democratically-elected president accused of a bit of creative accounting, in the name of the family and God, of all things. Congratulations, Eduardo Cunha. Welcome to the dismal brigade of self-interested, power-hungry, democracy-screwing arseholes.

In contrast to the pompous dictatorship of taste as promoted by Jonathan Jones and appropriately excoriated in my previous rant, let me link you to a magnificent example of the alternative: a piece by Armando Iannucci (in the Observer/Guardian too; they have earned a kudos rebate for this) lauding classical music: there is no call to Greatness or Art or any of those nonsenses to defend his tastes, merely a celebration of those tastes, an eagerness to experience and experiment with new styles—whether currently condemned by the arts establishment or not—and a willingness to discursively engage with those of different tastes and opinions. Occasionally a little fluffy for my liking, but it’s worth noting the only instance of the word “great” in association with the works under discussion is in the subeditor’s strapline. Iannucci celebrates what he loves, for no other reason than that he loves it: he has no need for mythologized justificatory crutches or fossilized establishment diktats.